


All I want to do is swim, but the waves keep crashin' in

by shadows_of_1832 (SaoirseVictoire)



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-12-01 23:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20932460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaoirseVictoire/pseuds/shadows_of_1832
Summary: Before Enjolras was attacked, they used to be so close, but since then, he's placed a wall between them, and Eponine doesn't know how much longer she'll be able to live that way.





	All I want to do is swim, but the waves keep crashin' in

**Author's Note:**

> The song "Ocean" by Lady Antebellum has been giving me some angsty fe/els lately, and due to something happening to someone I know, I got a bit inspired...perhaps a way to get some of worrisome thoughts out of my head, as well.
> 
> Edit: There is a simple art piece to accompany this fic, and it can be found here: https://saoirse-victoire.tumblr.com/post/188185221391/ive-been-wanting-to-do-something-for-inktober

_How can someone stand so damn close_  
_And feel like they're worlds away?_  
_I can see your sad story eyes_  
_So how do you have no words to say?_  
_All I want is to fall in deeper_  
_Than I've ever been_  
_Why won't you let me?_  
_I can handle your heart, so help me_

* * *

So close, yet so far away…

A few months have gone by since Enjolras was attacked, and he still won’t meet her eyes. Any cuts left on him have now healed or faded to scars, and in terms of appearance, he looks very much the same as when she met him, with the exception of one thing...

He can’t see out of his left eye.

Eponine remembers sitting beside his bed in hospital with Combeferre and Courfeyrac the week following the incident. She remembers being told he’ll recover, despite the brutal appearance of his wounds, but his eye, while they were able to save it, they didn’t know the impact and wouldn’t know the extent of the damage until after he woke up.

She watches how his eyes flicker around as he stares out towards the lake, noticing how the cloudy blue of his left matches the movements of the clear blue of his right. She knows he’s still in some state of disbelief, still pretending he’s okay and that he’s not trying to see where he will never see again.

At the moment, she’s the sight on his left; she doubts he sees her, but knows she’s there due to them coming to the lake shore together.

He’s put a wall up between them since the incident; it’s almost as if he doesn’t see her. She’s respected the fact he doesn’t want to talk about the incident, likely due to the mental trauma he experienced because of it.

But he also behaves as if he’s fragile. He’s more paranoid than he’s ever been, more sheltered, more cautious. Knowing the Enjolras before and after the incident…it’s almost as if she knew two different people.

Where is the man who with no thought of himself went and rallied for the lives of other people? Where is the man who would speak of injustice in the village square? Where is the man she would debate with over civil rights issues in the midst of the friends?

There is no brightness, no fire, no flame. It’s as if he’s an ocean away, and the candle he once was has burned out.

* * *

_Here you are, next to me_  
_So much beauty at my feet_  
_All I wanna do is swim_  
_But the waves keep crashin' in_  
_No, I'm not afraid to drown_  
_Take me out, take me down_  
_I'm so tired of the shore_  
_Let me in, baby_  
_You're an ocean beautiful and blue_  
_I wanna swim in you_

* * *

She misses the passion in his voice, the hurricane in his eyes. She misses coming home to seeing books sprawled across the living room floor, accompanied with sheets of notepaper. She misses the warm smile she’d see when she walked through the door.

But she’s lucky if he grants her a passing glance as he stares at the living room wall, and she wonders if that’s all he does when she not around.

She wants that closeness back, in bond and in the physical sense.

She has to wonder at times if he’s afraid of hurting her with the trauma he’s experienced. She wants to dive into his mind, know his thoughts like she used, but all she receives is darkness.

She’s caught him staring into the bathroom mirror a few times. He’s traced the marks on his face with a similar care of how he would brush her cheek. More-so, he focuses on his eyes, using his hands to cover and test his ability to see out of each one.

He’s become insecure, something she never thought he would be.

She’s tried to reassure him there’s nothing wrong, that he has her heart regardless. She’s held him close, pressed her lips to his skin, embraced him in moments where his dark thoughts has interrupted his day and left him shaking.

He doesn’t turn her away, but even in such moments where she can feel his warmth, there’s always a distant look in his eyes, like he’s not there.

* * *

_Like a lighthouse I've been shinin' bright_  
_Through the dark for the both of us_  
_And "I've done it outta love" is not enough_  
_But God, how I wish it was_  
_And I don't wanna find out_  
_How much lonely I can take before you lose me_  
_Baby, look at me and swear you won't lose me_

* * *

Eponine hears the waves crashing onto the shore as she watches him stare at the water in the silence. The autumn leaves crackle as the wind brushes past. They’re on the same bench, but opposite ends. Close, but not.

She thinks of how earlier in the summer, they were sitting on this same bench, arms wrapped around one another, watching the sunset on the horizon. At times, in silence just as they were now, and others, lively conversations and sharing sweet moments.

Funny enough how they talked about spending their whole lives together on this very bench.

“It’s been awhile since we’ve done this, haven’t we?” she asks, shifting a bit on the bench.

“Yes,” he replies in a clipped manner, not even turning his head.

She waits for more, but nothing comes.

It’s hurts. There’s an ache in her chest, knowing how they used to be, only to be what she can only describe as being pushed away.

She doesn’t deserve this, neither does he.

But she doesn’t know how much longer she can do this.

“Enjolras?”

“Hm?” He remains still.

“Look at me.”

“I know you’re there, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She takes a deep breath. “Turn your head and look towards me.”

“Why is that—”

She feels the tears sting her eyes. “Please, dammit!”

And so he turns his head. She can see the bit of annoyance in his expression, blended with confusion. She thinks she catches concern, but her vision is too blurry to be certain.

* * *

_Here you are, next to me_  
_So much beauty at my feet_  
_All I wanna do is swim_  
_But the waves keep crashin' in_  
_No, I'm not afraid to drown_  
_Take me out, take me down_  
_I'm so tired of the shore_  
_Let me in, baby_  
_You're an ocean beautiful and blue_  
_I wanna swim in you_

* * *

She reaches up and brushes his right cheek, knowing he won’t see it from his left.

“Eponine…” he breathes, eyebrows furrowed.

“Where are you?” she asks. “Because you sure haven’t been here.”

He blinks a few times. “Pardon?”

“Where are you?” she repeats, more insistent, _desperate_ this time.

“I haven’t gone anywhere.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not what I meant.”

A pause.

“I don’t know where you are anymore. I don’t know _you_ anymore. And I understand you went through a traumatic experience, but that gives you no right to shut me out.” She stares into his eyes despite the tears, his blue eyes shifting from where her hand touches his face. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed that that’s what you’ve been doing, and if you haven’t, well, you know now, and the thing is, I don’t know how much longer I can take it. We used to be so close, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been with you despite the struggles you’ve been facing. I know you’re broken and not who you were before the incident, but I don’t think it’s selfish of me to ask to have you with me, as you are.”

* * *

_I can't let it go_  
_From moments in your arms_  
_But they come back again_  
_The waves, the waves, the waves, the waves_  
_The waves, the waves, the waves, the waves_

* * *

There’s that questioning look she knows only he can make, as if he’s processing her words, running through instances of the past few months. She’s searching for that bit of recognition, a trace of the Enjolras she used to know, a part of him she knows is deep within him somewhere.

Her mind flickers to the past. To where he held her when her younger brother was killed in a car accident, to where he held her after she been threatened by one of her exes, to where they held each other after a close call at one of the rallies, to where she comforted him after witnessing a complete stranger die right in front of him as a result of a heart attack.

There’s the happy moments, too. Him embracing her after she had finally gotten her dream job. When he would hold her close while they watched movies on the couch. Times he held her close as they slow-danced in the living room, the only sound being his humming a tune.

How much she wishes for it back!

* * *

_Here you are, next to me_  
_So much beauty at my feet_  
_All I wanna do is swim_  
_But the waves keep crashin' in_  
_No, I'm not afraid to drown_  
_Take me out, take me down_  
_I'm so tired of the shore_  
_Let me in, baby_  
_You're an ocean beautiful and blue_  
_I wanna swim in you_

* * *

His gaze fixes on her, one eye cloudy and the other clear, but she’s certain now of the concern within them. He shifts over on the bench, closer to her. He reaches up with his left hand and brushes a strand of hair from her face.

“I’m sorry,” he says, using his thumb to wipe a tear from her cheek. “I…well…”

“You’re here,” she says.

“In some form or another.”

She smiles, then moves to press a kiss to his forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, and when you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here.”

“I know,” he replies. “Thank you for allowing me the space I never asked for, but please let me know if it’s hurting you, if it feels more like I’m pushing you away.”

She nods.

This is no permanent fix to his struggles, she knows. There’ll still be nights where he wakes up from reliving the incident in his dreams, days where he’ll still doubt himself because of both the physical and mental damage. There will still be days where he’ll seem too lost in his thoughts.

But he’s not alone.

Both of them turn back to the lake. His arm reaches behind her, and she rests her head on his shoulder.


End file.
